Homework? Not until you’ve watched Toy Story, young lady

A psychologist’s list of must-see movies for children forgets that films are
fun

Are you a mother? Have you just gratefully clocked off the packed-lunch-gym-kit-school-run routine? And responsibly sent your children out into this brief interlude of sunshine in an attempt to prevent rickets?

Well, you’re in the wrong again, because if they are to turn into well-adjusted young people and upstanding citizens, they apparently need to get back indoors and start watching DVDs. Yes, you heard: DVDs.

If you feel you’re being got at, you’d be right. First we had the Labour government telling us that every child should reach 69 targets by the age of five. Then we had the National Trust presenting us with 50 activities our children should achieve by the age of 11¾. Now a child psychologist has revealed the Top Ten films children must see before the age of 10.

This carefully compiled list of educational, uplifting and unimpeachably moral films will teach them life lessons – the very sort they might learn by themselves, in fact, if they weren’t glued to a screen. But, as Harry Wormwood yells at his daughter Matilda (the film of which is number nine on the list): “There’s nothing you can get from a book that you can’t get from a television faster.”

I was prepared to dismiss the list out of hand, until I realised that we own nine of the recommended DVDs.

In first place, there is Toy Story, which “teaches about interpersonal relationships and the acceptance of people from different walks of life”, then The Lion King (self-belief) and Home Alone (family values and, as David Cameron discovered, the importance of doing a headcount before jumping into the car).

Next up, Labyrinth (see that guy in the bad wig, that’s David Bowie. Duh, the musician?), The Jungle Book (never trust a snake), Mary Poppins (always trust Julie Andrews), The Wizard of Oz (search for the hero inside yourself, or failing that, stay in Kansas), The NeverEnding Story (lose yourself in a book and you might never be found), Matilda (nobody likes a smarty-pants) and Up (never seen it, but I hear it’s a touching portrayal of something or other).

When I consulted with my resident cineaste 10 year-old, Lily revealed that, as it happens, she had just seen the best film ever because “when you went out last night, Daddy and I bought a really big bar of chocolate and watched Twilight”. Now, I know for a fact that, quite apart from the sadistic vampires and shape-shifting werewolves, Twilight is steeped in teenage hormones. But more to the point, how come they didn’t leave me any Fruit & Nut?

Leaving the nibbles aside, the movies I feel ought to be on any definitive list include Shrek, which, like any good pantomime, is sharply observant and funny on many levels. The same goes for virtually everything else that comes from the Disney Pixar stable, especially Finding Nemo, whose lessons have more practical application than most. What could be a more useful adage than Just Keep Swimming? Apart, of course, from Don’t Touch the Boat?

Diary of a Wimpy Kid is an unbeatable guide to the vicissitudes of friendship. The Little Princess is a riches-to-rags-to-riches lesson in rising above material loss because, hey, every little girl is a princess inside and only a knee-socked sociopath could fail to weep, uncontrollably, for hours after seeing it. The original, disturbing Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory is still the best.

But what of the Saturday afternoon westerns and repeats of The Philadelphia Story or Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn sparring over a leopard in Bringing Up Baby? Much as it pains me, my children feel baffled and cheated if I suggest watching a black and white film. So I sob alone into my snifter of cherry brandy on Christmas Eve while It’s a Wonderful Life breaks my heart, and the kids are in the other room laughing uproariously at Elf.

Must every film have a message? Isn’t there something awry if we need a cartoon cowboy to demonstrate to our offspring the virtues of sharing and loyalty? There’s nothing wrong with a little reinforcement, but if they haven’t got the idea by the age of three or four, even a limited-edition Woody doll isn’t going to help.

So let’s take this prescribed viewing with a pinch of salt. Films, of course, have their place in popular culture, but let’s not exaggerate their significance. When I take my two to see Ice Age 4: Continental Drift, I won’t be quizzing them on tectonics or the taxonomy of extinct mammals.

I will, however, quiz them about how they managed to put away their body weight in pic ’n’ mix, but that probably belongs in a Top Ten of cinema snacks every child must eat before they reach… the closing credits.